Tales from the Bishop…4?

In Arkansas, there is a little town you might have heard of. It’s kind of off-the-map, but if you look for it, you will be rewarded by what you find. This town’s name is Conway, population 40,000.
Conway is in the middle of Arkansas. It’s weather changes often, from rainy to sunny. Most months of the year, it’s hot, but it does snow often, also.
Like most of Arkansas, Conway is rather boring. If you look hard enough, you can find things to do. For example, you can bowl here. You can’t drink and bowl, but you can bowl. Which is fun, I guess. We also have parties. These are always put to a quick end by our crack local police force. Here lives Bryan Bishop. Here lives he.
What began as an English draft of my Spanish composition has suddenly become my column. Hoo-fuckin’-ray.
Allright, folks, as you might have noticed, I’ve-a been busy lately, doin’ shit, and because of that, no columns for a while. No biggie. I’m sure you have stuff to do also, and it gets in the way of writin’ columns nobody reads. Well, congrats. I found the time. And the thing is, I’m getting graded for it.

AN ANNOYING AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL PAUSE

Now, a little about me. As you know, I used to be one of them “Nice Guys”. You know who I’m talking about. “I’m a nice guy! I’m in love! Love is great! Everything’s great! Isn’t that great?”
But here’s the secret… that girl I’m in love with? She loves somebody else. AWWW! So now I’m like… “Dangit, he’s boning her and not me, I’m so nice, so nice guys finish last…”
What?
Hold on a minute.
I know I’m not the first person to ever spout off that bullshit, and I won’t be the last. But I can tell you right now that I’m never going to say it again. It’s fallacious. Have you ever ogled at a car accident? Cut in front of a disabled person in line? Watched Monster Garage? Then you, my friend, are not a “Nice Guy”. You’re an asshole like the rest of us.
Which brings me to my upcoming series of columns.

These seven things piss me off to no end. Noooooo end. They weigh on my karma and my chi until I’m about to grab a meat cleaver and start chopping off jawbones. They make me want to tear my head off and hurl it at the initiates of these horrible, horrifying, horrendous mannerisms. I’m not talking once in a while… I’m talking about all the time. Guys who play that retarded “diamond something I’m crazy bout Bentleys”… song. Guys who walk up to you in a pink shirt…then raise their hand and CARESS yours. Guys who utter the same obnoxious fake laugh more than twenty-seven times per minute. Girls who have cheated, whined, irritated, slapped, and basically castrated their boyfriends, yet still find themselves justified in complaining if he plays Xbox too much. I’m talking about this stuff.

This stuff, ladies and gentlemen, is going to push this overweight Arkansan to tears.
…but not today. No, children, I have to get to work. So tune in next week for part one of my series, and remember…

“Give a man a fish, and he can fish for a day. Teach a man to fish, and he can fish for a lifetime.”-George W. Bush